Benden's Worst Kept Secret
by Hypocritical-Hime
Summary: A series of drabble/one shot/vignette hybrids concerning one of the most well-known couples of the Pernese world and those closest to them. Enjoy!
1. Laughter

_Well, after a lot of encouragement,( you who encouraged know who you are!), I decided to gather my courage and post these…well not drabbles really, they're too long, I guess they're more crosses between drabbles and one shots about my very favorite couple. This involves Lessa and F'lar and the people closest to them._

_I don't know how regular they will be, it all depends on what ideas hit me and when._

_So enjoy. _

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**Theme: Laughter**

F'lar jumped up in alarm when he heard a thump, followed by a muffled cry.

All but tripping over his riding harness he bolted to the sleeping room, a million terrifying thoughts racing through his mind. What had happened? Was she hurt?

_No. _Mnementh's reassurance was tinged with amusement and F'lar soon found out why.

Upon entering the sleeping room he found his weyrmate sprawled on the floor, scowling sulkily at her lower half, where a recently torn pair of pants now rested in a rumpled mess below her pregnant belly of six months.

Lessa glared at him threateningly. "Well what are you waiting for?" She demanded, holding her hands out imperiously. The sight was too much for F'lar and despite herself; Lessa couldn't stop her lips twitching at the sight of her mate brought to his knees in fits of laughter.


	2. Crazy

**Prompt Word: "Crazy"**

"I am going to kill him!"

Lessa's sudden outbursts, though all too frequent, did take Manora by surprise every now and again. She shook her head in an attempt to get her bearings back before raising an eyebrow at Lessa; though inwardly she was grinning.

It had become a widely known fact in Benden Weyr that the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman were very attracted to each other, though they constantly argued outside of formality and meetings to hide it.In fact, she'd recently heard a rumour that a betting pool of sorts had been started concerning the two, though no one knew who had started it. However, Manora had a sneaking suspicion that F'nor, T'sum and possibly C'gan were the instigators of said betting pool; they were the only riders she knew of that would bravely risk F'lar's wrath if he ever found out.

The Headwoman realised that Lessa was glaring at her, clearly waiting for a reply.

"What's he done now?" she asked mildly.

"That's the thing, he hasn't done anything!" Lessa nearly tipped her klah over as she sprung out of her seat and began to pace. Her agitation caused Ramoth to croon worriedly from her couch and Lessa paused to soothe her before swivelling on her foot to face Manora.

"I don't get it! He just, he's driving me crazy and I don't understand why!" Lessa's tone held a desperate edge to it. "I don't know what he's doing or how he does it, but whatever it is, I don't like it!"

The Weyrwoman stamped her foot in frustration and though she tried, Manora couldn't restrain the laughter that bubbled forth. Oh, this was just too funny, not to mention incredibly sweet. She'd been wondering who would crack first.

"What?" Lessa demanded, hurt at the way her confession was being handled. "What are you laughing at?"

Manora covered her mouth to stifle her amusement. Once she'd managed to get her breath back she smiled at Lessa.

"Oh my dear, don't you realise? You're in love!"


	3. Family

**Theme: Family**

F'lar sighed, rubbing at his face wearily as entered the queen's weyr. The bronze rider frowned, slightly confused as he was met with darkness. Lessa nearly always had a glow or two on at this time of day; she didn't like the dark and always muttered something about _bad memories_ (F'lar had never asked why, he knew enough to know that she didn't like reliving that part of her life in any way or form).

Gazing around curiously, he absently took note of the dozing Ramoth, before doing a startled double-take at the strange lump nestled against the queen dragons' side.

Moving forward cautiously, F'lar blinked in pleasant surprise as he realised what it was.

Lessa was sprawled alongside her dragon, one hand curled under her cheek as she slept. Her other arm was wrapped loosely around the body of their four year old son, who's head was nestled in the curve of Lessa's hip, curls the exact replica of his mother's dark hair falling lightly across his face as a small hand gripped the material of her tunic trustingly.

Smiling softly at the precious scene, F'lar shrugged out of his heavy jacket, kneeling down to place it gently over his family; pressing a soft kiss to his weyrmate's brow before leaving them and making his way to the bathing room.


	4. Suggestive

**Suggestive**

The Hatching of the resultant clutch from Lamanth's and Piyanth's mating had yielded a decent thirty-one eggs, all of who had Impressed to a very promising bunch of Candidates; and as a result the Weyrfolk had used it as an excuse to be as raucous and as crazy as they could possibly be—though thankfully, they had waited until the last of the Holdfolk had been flown home before the real celebrations had started.

Lessa and F'lar had to make an appearance; they were the Weyrleaders after all. It hadn't stopped Lessa from grumbling about it though, and she had spent the best part of the night sulking in her seat at the High Table. She had, however, been pleasantly brought out of her dark mood by the presence of a warm pair of arms around her, their owner sighing as he rested his chin on her head and voiced the same complaints running through her mind, much to her surprise and pleasure.

Of course, she had made some cheeky retort back to him. Big mistake.

In retaliation, F'lar had then proceeded to amuse himself for the next half hour by quietly murmuring amorous propositions, involving the two of them, in her ear. She had almost choked on her wine once, (when he mentioned the Lake idea) and then again, (when he suggested that perhaps the Weyrlingmaster's office would be better?).

Finally, (after he complimented her on how pretty she looked when she was all flushed and trembling) she'd made an excuse about needing to leave—she couldn't remember what it was—then hauled him out of the Lower Caverns, shoved him into a niche between two stone pillars, and proceeded to kiss him senseless.


	5. Shy

_Before I do this one, yes, I do realise to some of you that it may deviate a little. But then, Anne never said the following scene could never happen did she__? (And I always like to use this to play with ideas). ;)_

_Thank you for the reviews and encouragement by the way. (I probably should get out of the fluffy ones after this though huh?)_

_---------------------------_

**Theme:**** Shy**

"Delan, give him back!" The girl wailed, struggling to push through the Gather crowd after the boy who had her most prized possession.

"Why? It's not as if you need him any more anyway." The boy taunted, stopping and holding the ratty stuffed dragon above his head and out of her reach

"Give him back!" The girl cried, jumping up and flailing helplessly as her precious toy was waved above her head.

. "Only babies keep their old toys, not nine Turn old girls." Delan said mockingly, shaking the dragon roughly before adding, "Maybe I should do your parents a favour and just throw him in the midden perhaps?"

"[INo![/I Give Mnemith back!" Lessa screamed; her face crumpling and tears filling her immense eyes as the boy laughed and danced out of her reach again. Suddenly he yelped as the toy was snatched out of his grasp, causing both of them to look up in surprise.

"You shouldn't be so mean to people smaller than you, especially girls." A pair of amber eyes flashed and the tall stranger arched an eyebrow at Delan, who merely stared before turning on his heel and running off.

The strange boy snorted derisively before turning back to the small girl, who looked up at him with curious, if somewhat defiant eyes, despite the tear stains marring her cheeks. Was he going to bully her too? He was older than Delan, so maybe he was nicer…but then again maybe he'd be even more of a bully than the other boy.

She was startled when the boy smiled almost shyly, kneeling down beside her. "I believe he's yours?" He queried softly, and Lessa broke into a smile as he held out her precious toy.

"His name's Mnemith." She murmured; her demeanour uncharacteristically shy as she gazed up into those curious amber eyes. "Are you a hero?" She asked innocently.

"Um, I don't know." The boy blushed and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, causing her to giggle.

"It doesn't matter, I think you are." Lessa smiled up at him before glancing behind her as someone called her name. "I have to go. Thank you." She gave the older boy another radiant smile before running off.

_She is sweet._ Mnementh commented from his vantage point on the fire heights.

The young bronze rider smiled. _I envy the man who's lucky enough to get her. _


	6. Water

**Theme: Water**

Lessa eyed the water with mild suspicion, her gaze travelling over the sparkling blue-green as it crashed in a kind of staccato rhythm against the sandy shore. Further out, she could see the glowing forms of her dragon and her mate's dragon as they bathed and played, glad of a chance to abandon the exhausting and not to mention dirty endeavour of clearing the Ancient's relics.

She was glad for the break too of course, and it wasn't that she didn't like water…it was just; she didn't particularly like water that looked like it would drown you with its foamy residue. On top of that, the ocean wind had picked up somewhat, and Lessa bit her lip irritably as a strand of dark hair blew across her face, blowing at it and rubbing at her bare skin before sidling closer to the water.

Glancing around suspiciously, she proceeded to dip her foot in, pulling it out with gasp as a surge of cold foam covered it, tickling at her other foot in an almost teasing manner. Shard this. Shaking her head, Lessa took a step back and would have turned around had she not suddenly been swept off her feet; not by the water though, by a pair of _arms._

Benden's Weyrwoman barely had time to even scream as she was suddenly dropped into the oncoming wave, the water enfolding her, drenching her and by Faranth it was cold!

Coughing and spitting like an enraged feline, Lessa didn't even bother checking who it was before she threw herself at her torturer, shouting curses and causing F'lar to shout with laughter as they both tumbled backwards into the water.

From his vantage point in the shady trees, Robinton arched an amused eyebrow at F'nor, who merely grinned and shrugged.

"Don't look at me, I'm just the Wingsecond."


	7. Temptation

_I'm particularly interested in reviews for this one guys. _

**---------**

**Theme: Temptation**

_Sharding pie._

If F'lar had been capable of any rational thought at that moment, he'd have wondered how it was possible that he'd managed to ever stoop to such a level of deprivation. It was ridiculous; utterly and completely stupid to be feeling like this over a piece of food.

Still, he glowered at the object of his current state of jealousy and dislike, expression darkening as it was caressed gently by the spoon as it broke into the warm surface before rising to touch the lips of its devourer delicately. Only these lips didn't belong to just any person. No, these were the lips that he wanted to ravish until it was impossible for either of them to breathe.

It hardly helped that she was currently oblivious to his attentions; Manora had pulled the Weyrwoman up about something or other, though he had to wonder what exactly it was, considering they were both smiling. Briefly he entertained the notion that they both knew what he was currently thinking, but dismissed it immediately as childish.

He barely managed to suppress a quiet groan as she licked the juice with an almost unfair relish, her tongue trailing absently along her mouth, the mere movement transfixing his gaze (and imagination), at the raw sensuality of it.

He watched with barely suppressed longing as she raised the spoon to her mouth, lapped at the liquid residue gently before sucking on the spoon with almost indecent care…the bronze rider found himself unable to stop the sudden barrage of images that assailed his mind. In his mind's eye he saw her administer the same actions to his mouth as her hands slipped under his shirt, caressing the sensitive skin gently, her lips moving to his hands, lapping playfully at each finger before she leant back to gaze up at him with eyes dark with—

F'lar groaned softly as he buried his face in his arms, desperately willing away the urge to abandon detachment and jump her there and then.

_Oh Faranth. I really _hate_ that pie._


	8. Enchantment

_AN: This one is set sometime after they get together - though if it suits you, you can imagine it beforehand - but obviously before the conception/birth/whatever of Felessan._

**Theme: Enchantment**

"She's so beautiful," Lessa murmured to Manora; her expression almost awed as she looked upon the tiny bundle in Alikasa's arms. The woman – a journeywoman harper who had been assigned to Benden Weyr ten months ago, and had, in that time, managed to attach herself to K'net – looked up and gave Lessa a tired but warm smile.

"Would you like to hold her Weyrwoman?" she asked softly.

Lessa's eyes widened in surprise and fear and she took a half step back.

"I…I don't want to hurt her."

"You wouldn't hurt her Weyrwoman," K'net grinned at her from Alikasa's side reassuringly. He'd surprised them all, turning up for the birth as he had. Not many riders, particularly bronze riders, had much to do with any of their children and K'net, as a young rider, seemed the least likely to. However, it seemed people could surprise you.

"Sit down Lessa, if you're unsure." Manora gently guided the Weyrwoman to a stool beside Alikasa's cot, and with the ease of experience, she took the little girl from Alikasa and placed her carefully in Lessa's arms.

"Relax Lessa, you'll upset her if you sit all stiff and frozen like that." Manora chuckled. "See, you're already holding her the right way."

Lessa forced herself to relax, looking down on the baby as it slept. One slender hand came up uncertainly to touch the soft fuzz on her head, moving down the child's downy cheek and finally coming to rest on a tiny hand. Lessa inhaled in surprise when the baby stirred, and despite herself, she felt her cold mask slipping away as the little girl blindly gripped her thumb, and unconsciously, Lessa began moving it back and forth.

A sleepy gurgle caused her mouth to twitch and her eyes to soften, and when blue-grey eyes opened blearily to meet hers the queen rider could no longer deny that she was utterly mesmerized by this little bundle, this creature that was so tiny and helpless, yet so indefinably beautiful.

At that point F'lar entered the room, obviously in search of Manora or Lessa. However, all previous intentions flew out of his mind as he stopped in his tracks, eyes wide and expression startled, before unconsciously softening to a look that was captivated and captivating. The sight of his mate cradling a child…the expression on her face…it was utterly enchanting.

He stared for a time before realizing the room had gone silent, and a thought occurred to him. It was evident that, if he was awed at the sight of Lessa and the child, then everyone else would be utterly dumbstruck at the sight of the reserved Weyrleader staring at her in such a way. Warmth crept along his cheeks and he cleared his throat, hastily composing himself as he greeted the parents.

"Congratulations K'net, Alikasa." He clapped the younger bronze rider's shoulder. The sound of his voice broke her from her preoccupation, and Lessa looked up at him just as he looked at her. The look in her eyes caused the bronze rider's heart to skip a beat and everything seemed to fade into the background as they looked into one another's eyes.

"Lessa would make a good mother, don't you think so Weyrleader?" Alikasa asked, breaking the spell. They started at her voice and F'lar cleared his throat again as Lessa studied the wall behind him with slightly red cheeks. She never heard his answer though, for at that moment, she sensed the infant stirring restlessly in her arms. A small hand reached up, and Lessa's cheeks darkened to a beautiful shade of red as the hand felt along the front of her tunic, just below the swell of her breasts. The little one was hungry.

"I think she needs her mother now." Lessa shifted uncomfortably, leaning over to hand the child back to Alikasa. A sudden thought struck her, and she glared up at the men.

"If either of you breathe a word of this I'll make sure you're arses are threaded next Fall." she threatened.

"Wouldn't dream of it." F'lar drawled, causing his weyrmate to blush again, eliciting laughter from the others in the room.

It was a rare time, a special time.


	9. Wishes

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonriders of Pern.**

_My apologies for taking so long to update, but I had a lot on my plate this past year and as such, this had to take a backseat. As you'll see, I'm going to make life easier and post the remaining pieces I have written so I won't forget again, and leave it at that. As I mentioned way back when, there's no set plot/timeline for these...there just little snippets._

_I hope you enjoy them._

_--_

**Theme: Wishes**

Secrets are impossible to keep in close-knit communities, particularly those concerning superiors and pregnancies, especially those concerning superiors and pregnancies in the _same_ context.

So when F'lar steps into the Lower Caverns that evening, he is promptly greeted with raucous cheers and whistles from what appears to be every single occupant in the Weyr. Wondering what all the fuss is about, Lessa follows him in, stops and looks mortified upon seeing the audience, and then turns to F'lar and promptly begins to pummel him, even when he laughs and protests that he had nothing to do with the well-wishers.


	10. Only You

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonriders of Pern.**

**--**

**Theme: Only You**

The bleeding had finally stopped, the pain fading away into nothing, not even a dull ache. She'd been given the all clear by Manora, everything was fine, no debilitating side effects. She knew she had been lucky this time.

But if she had been so fortunate, then why did she feel so utterly, incredibly empty? So utterly lost, the pain as fresh as it had been the first time [I]it[/I] had happened. She hadn't been certain about this one, to be sure, you just couldn't be certain when you'd been through this as many times as she had but still, she had hoped; hoped that perhaps this one would see it through…

Lessa curled against herself, arms gripping her mid-section numbly; eyes blank and staring through the darkness that was slowly creeping over the weyr. If she'd bothered, she'd have risen to light the glows and let the light warm the stone walls; force herself to play the strong Weyrwoman and mate, act as if nothing was wrong, pretend she was fine. But this was just one too many as they'd often say.

She dimly registered the swish of the curtain, subconsciously cringed as the couch sunk slightly, like a child would when they wanted to hide, even though a part of them knew they weren't really hiding. She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and flinched away from it slightly, though it was enough for her weyrmate to inhale sharply. Ignoring the hurt sound, she hugged herself tighter, though the urge to turn and bury herself in his embrace fought bitterly against the part that wanted to push him away.

After a moment she spoke.

"Why?" she asked harshly. The question was ambiguous and vague, yet F'lar knew immediately what it was referring to. Heaving his body up onto the bed, he lay down beside her, arms curling around her slender frame and pressing his chest to her back, holding her close even when she stiffened.

"Because," he said softly into her hair, "You're a hundred times more a [I]woman[/I] than any other could ever be. You don't need to prove anything to me, you've never had to." He kissed her neck softly. "I only want you. Just you."

She didn't reply for a long time; the darkness deepening around the weyr, and he was afraid that she had withdrawn back into the impenetrable shell that even he had trouble breaking. Then, slowly, he felt her fingers curl around his, lifting his hands up until they met her lips, and despite the indefinable sense of hurt and loss that still lingered in the air, he smiled and held her closer when she placed their linked hands over her heart.

They'd get through this. They always did.


	11. Entrap

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonriders of Pern.**

_OOC: This is set a little after Lessa's return with the five Weyrs. Honestly, I have no idea when a scene such as this could have taken place, so I'm just taking my own interpretation of them at this point in time. Like the disclaimer on the FRONT says, don't own Pern…if by some amazing chance I came to own it, we all know there'd be more F'lar and Lessa. And less Jaxom. A lot less Jaxom._

**Theme: Entrap**

It had been a trying day and Lessa closed her eyes as the cool breeze that filtered through the weyr entrance played across her forehead. She turned to look at F'lar, who was sleeping peacefully beside her. The fading glowlight played across his face and she smiled, enjoying his presence.

Subconsciously, her mind began to mull over the events of the day. Or month, if she wanted to count the time she'd spent back four hundred Turns. Now that she thought about it, she could hardly believe she'd accomplished any of it. Somehow, she'd managed to convince and guide five ancient Weyrs forward, based only on an old ballad and a fickle beacon in the sky.

Her smile softened slightly as her mind replayed her return to the present time, and the reaction it had evoked. Her ribs still ached from the force of F'lar's embrace, but seeing him once again, touching him, hearing his voice murmur in her ear; it was as if that strange, heavy lump in her chest had dissolved.

Suddenly, it all hit her.

_By Faranth, I've fallen in love, _she realised, eyes widening in shock. _I, who swore never to let a man trap me in any way again, have fallen in love._

She remembered the look on Manora's face all those times she'd lost her temper with the Weyrleader, the slight, knowing smile. She remembered the mischievous grin on F'nor's face when he'd caught her unawares when she'd been watching F'lar do something or other. Lastly, she remembered the smile on Mardra's face, the knowing expression Robinton had cast her when she and F'lar had reunited. Shards, now she thought about it, even _Lytol _had been smiling.

_They all knew it, _she realised, inwardly laughing. _Those wherry-brained…or maybe I'm the wherry-brained fool for not realizing it before._

Lessa sighed ruefully as she gazed at her weyrmate. As if sensing her scrutiny, he stirred and opened his eyes.

"Not tired?" he murmured sleepily, pulling her closer.

"Just thinking," she replied softly.

"About?"

"Us," she said honestly, before pausing. "F'lar?"

"Hm?"

"I've fallen in love," she confessed.

"Who's the lucky rider?" he teased, eyes twinkling playfully.

She gently shoved him. "You know who it is."

"Good," he murmured, closing his eyes again. "I was hoping you would. It's very disagreeable, having a one-sided relationship."

"What!" she exclaimed, causing his eyes to open again. He sighed amusedly and propped himself up so he was eye level with her.

"Do you remember that evening last winter, when you fell in the lake and I had to rescue you?" he asked softly. She nodded.

"You were soaking wet, shivering like an Igen man in the High Reaches; your lips were blue and you were that embarrassed you looked as if you were about to cry." She nodded again, sheepishly. He smiled, playing with a stray curl on her shoulder. "Fatal combination it seems, I realised then how deeply I'd fallen for you."

"That long ago? Why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged and she was surprised to see the faint colour on his cheeks. "I didn't want to pressure you. I knew how much you feared being trapped and I didn't want you to feel as if I was doing that."

"Do you know," she murmured, snuggling against him and shutting her eyes, "I don't fear entrapment quite so much anymore."

"I'm glad," he said quietly, closing his eyes. He was just drifting into slumber when she spoke again.

"Goodnight F'lar, I love you," she said softly.

"I love you too Lessa," he murmured back, kissing her forehead. "Sweet dreams."

_Yes, I am trapped, _Lessa thought sleepily. _But I wouldn't break away for anything._


	12. Indecent

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonriders of Pern.**

**Theme: Indecent**

"What's on your mind?" Lessa asked as she nibbled on her breakfast. It was several hours before they were due at Telgar and they were taking advantage of the quiet time before what would be an overwhelming day. Well, she was taking advantage, F'lar seemed to be in another world altogether.

A few moments passed before he quietly admitted, "Just some rather indecent thoughts about you…us…last night." F'lar grinnedwhen her eyes widened, enjoying her disconcertment.

He nearly choked on his _klah_ when she turned the tables on him though, her eyes sparkling and her smile pure wickedness.

"Care to share them?"


	13. Innuendo

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonriders of Pern.**

**Theme: Innuendo **

The new level their relationship had reached was first discovered when F'nor, completely oblivious to the consequences of just walking into the Senior Queen's weyr, came to review the morning duties with his Weyrleader.

Two minutes later he was bolting out of the weyr, doubled over with laughter and trying to flee the riding boot and the blue streak of curses Lessa hurled at him about his lack of consideration concerning his superiors. He caught his breath long enough to shout out his discovering a whole new meaning to the term '_bronze rider_', and couldn't look his Weyrwoman in the eye without bursting into laughter for several weeks afterwards.


	14. Caught in a Daze

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonriders of Pern.**

**Theme: Caught in a Daze**

The first time he'd ever kissed her really wasn't that special or breath-taking. Or so she constantly tried to tell herself afterwards.

She would have been lying if she'd said it hadn't surprised her a little. From what she knew, F'lar wasn't known for his abilities concerning emotional expression of any kind, at least not publicly.

It was her second Turnover in the Weyr, and she'd managed to escape her quarters to see the celebrations for herself (they were a lot wilder than what she remembered from her childhood, but then, this was a Weyr, not a Hold).

She spent much of the night close to Manora and F'nor - people she somewhat trusted – and to her initial chagrin, F'lar. He still irritated her beyond belief, but at the same time, he was one of the only people she'd consider herself somewhat safe with (though it would probably take a great deal of torture for her to admit it).

The bronze rider didn't seem to mind though, and actually took it upon himself to keep her from being overwhelmed by the loud celebrators and their antics. It was kind of sweet, in an odd, very un-Flar like way (to her at least), and by the end of the night, she actually found herself reluctant to leave – again, much to her bemusement.

Of course, he just had to make matters even more confusing, didn't he?

It had only been a soft, light touch to the cheek, a small token that was to be expected at Turnover. Still, she watched him in wide eyed surprise as he bowed slightly, wishing her a good Turnover before quickly disappearing from the Lower Caverns. Blinking, she touched her cheek, shaking her head in an attempt to dispel the odd shiver that was running through her body.

Looking around, she was startled to see F'nor and Manora…and several other riders in F'lar's wing, grinning at her. Wondering why on Pern they were looking at her like that, she gave each of them an icy glare, putting up a show of indifference as she marched out of the Caverns.

Still, a tiny, traitorous part of her mind continued to glow at the memory of his breath warming her skin. Lessa shook her head irritably. For Faranth's sake, it was just a kiss on the cheek! Nothing to be worried about!

Right?


	15. Too Close

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonriders of Pern.**

_To avoid confusion, the following two are tied together – just on different chapters. ;)_

**Theme: Too Close**

The events surrounding Caylith's flight were exhausting, and not a bit trying for Lessa. Yet again she had come close to losing one of the only beings that kept her _human _in this cruel, unforgiving world, yet it was not until later that night, when they were undressing, that Lessa discovered once again just how close she actually came to losing F'lar.

The cut is shallow and barely noticeable, and F'lar reassures her that he's fine, that it doesn't hurt at all. Yet as she traces the area – between collarbone and heart – a chill runs through her body as she realises that this time, danger struck the closest it ever has.


	16. Breaking

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonriders of Pern.**

**Theme: Breaking**

F'lar stirs, awakening to something brushing softly against his skin. Although her fingers are slightly calloused, Lessa's touch is gentle, and he watches her pale fingers tracing the cut T'kul's knife had managed to inflict before glancing up at her. Her expression is unreadable, which bothers him, and he is worried further by the darkness in her eyes, the slight sheen that he has come to discover is her way of hiding emotion.

Before he can speak though, she kisses him heatedly, desperately. He forgets his worries for the moment, gathers her into his arms and makes love to her like he did that night over twenty Turns ago.

*

Later that night he is drifting off to sleep when he feels her shivering against him, despite the unusual mildness of the evening and the warmth that always lingers after their love-making. F'lar is startled when he feels the dampness of her face against his chest; Lessa hardly ever cries.

"You idiot," she whispers suddenly, obviously under the impression that he's asleep. F'lar doesn't know who she's condemning, himself for getting caught up in something dangerous yet again, or herself, for allowing herself to be reduced to this, vulnerable and afraid, afraid of losing him. It breaks his heart to see her like this, but he resists the urge to hold her close and murmur soft endearments, to tell her that he's still here, that he would never leave her.

Because he knows this is a moment that she never meant for him to witness.


	17. Wrinkles

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonriders of Pern.**

**Theme: Wrinkles**

F'lar often grumbles these days about the follies of age; stiff joints and wrinkles and senility and how they slow one down. As always, Lessa is instantly there to mollify him with a warm kiss and the assurance that though he may be old in the fighting sense, (he rolls his eyes at her but she raises a hand to still his sarcastic protest).

"You're certainly not an old man in the sleeping room," she finishes, smiling mischievously.

This time, the wrinkles that appear are good wrinkles, the wrinkles of a smile that is promptly followed by a squeal of laughter when said old man throws his weyrmate over his shoulder and carries her to the sleeping room.


	18. Intensity

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pern.**

**Theme: Intensity**

--

Lessa sighed in frustration. What was it about people that made them so hidebound? It had been another trying meeting - a meeting where feathers were ruffled, heels were dug in and thorns in the form of Hath's rider had just made life plain difficult. Faranth, wasn't the prescence of forty one eggs enough? Men, she had discovered, could be just as finicky and fussy as their female counterparts, and she wished there was some way she could record them in such moods in her memory and then play it for them to see. Just so she could smirk at their embarrassment. Really, she had no idea how F'lar managed to handle them so calmly, and the fact that he could do so annoyed her just a little. Why? Because she admired him for it, and that kind of admiration was just plain dangerous to her self-imposed _keep away _mindset.

Rolling her shoulders in an attempt to work out the kinks, Lessa bit her lip as she tried to think of what she still had to do. Her thoughts were interrupted by the touch of warm hands on the back of her neck. F'lar's hands. She froze, body tensing as she wondered how he had gotten so close without her noticing. And what did he think he was doing, touching her? Shard it, he was supposed to be keeping his distance so she could work herself out, not digging his thumbs right into the sorest part of her shoulders and slowly working the knots out, his fingers caressing her skin, smoothing away the pain and...well, he actually was rather good at this...

"F'lar," she snapped warningly. Well, it had meant to be warning snap. Instead, it had come out more like a purr. Shard. It.

"Stay still and relax," he murmured, voice oddly low as his hands slowly worked her tight muscles. Despite the gentle warning, she couldn't have moved if she'd wanted to now - what he was doing felt far too good for her to do anything but tilt her head to the side, roll her shoulders so he'd catch the sorest points and close her eyes as she allowed a sigh to escape her lips. If he wanted to massage her neck until Thread returned, she wasn't going to complain...

She'd almost forgotten she was supposed to be concentrating on her remaining duties fr the day; her whole mind and body was caught up in the Weyrleader's ministrations. Never had she thought he could be this...gentle. It was scary, actually; it was like they were suddenly the only two people on earth - sans a humming queen dragon - and nothing else seemed to matter but his fingers touching her skin.

And this was exactly why she shouldn't let him near her. Forcing herself to open her eyes, Lessa reached up to still his hands with her own. Ducking away from his touch, she mentally attempted to scare away the memory of his touch. Her softened muscles told otherwise though, and she could barely gather the courage to look him in the eye.

"I need to go...speak to Manora about something," she mumbled, before turning and fleeing the weyr.


	19. Soon

**Disclaimer: Don't own Pern**

**Theme: Soon**

**--**

The lines on his face told a life story that was ultimately heroic, and the crinkles around his eyes spoke more of who he had truly been, rather than who people had seen him to be. Amber eyes that had sparkled with mischief and life were now closed, lashes dusting his weathered cheeks in a way that had never ceased to fascinate her - dusting his cheeks as he finally entered what was a well-deserved rest.

Her hand was still clasped in his, and though her fingers shook as she caressed his brow - like she had so, so many times over the Turns - she didn't cry. Not because she was glad, or heartless as he himself had so often teased. No, because she knew he wasn't gone forever. Not to her, not to her heart.

She knew she'd see him again soon.


End file.
